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Umi Feb 2018
The nightsky is alike a mighty mansion of the stars which then
twinkle in elegance, beauty and transience until the dawn outshines them in a graceful manner.
As the night turns away from the sun and from her light, danger
in our imagination could await, from the corners of our very mind.
Yet the stars make up a soft blanket, a cover of the calmest of light,
which could bring peace to a soul which is performing a rampage.
All the constilations, all the names and forms which reveal themselves, are but a heavenly spectra for those who are nocturnal.
Or for those, whom have meet the cruel fate to be allergic to the natural, straight forward, warming and blissful sunlight.
There is no soul with no protector, in the nightsky such would be
a bright,piercing star, standing proud,manifest its location is over you
Holding many wonders, the beauty of the night comes with shooting stars, which at times shortly sweep over the heaven before fading.
Wishes are made upon, hope fills their hearts, for a better future
or a fulfilment of their desires, tangled up within the depth of mind.
Night becomes bright once the moon shines, in its fullest posture.
Becomes dark once the rainclouds drive near, calling in thunder.
But most importantly, it is a time of rest, from all this earth beholds


~ Umi
Ashari Ty Jul 2018
My favorite moment in a day
Is right before I fall asleep

When I look up
I could finally see the nightsky

Not that I have no ceiling
But I choose to see the stars behind
There is more than what meets the eye ;)
Kurtlopez Dec 2020
My favorite moment in a day
Is right before I fall asleep

When I look up
I could finally see the nightsky

Not that I have no ceiling
But I choose to see the stars behind
eileen Nov 2018
sky's so cold
reminds me of her
she always blew me a cold kiss

eating ice cream when it's zero degrees

ice queen
she covers the sky
with an independent gloom

I'm waiting on the snow
she gives the best shows
wearing glittery shoes

eerie feeling
you aren't here with me
I almost felt you beside me

I need to let her go
move on

let the sky fall
Stephanie Mar 2018
The night sky above...
Unreached by doves
a majestic sight
of incomparable light
twinkling dusts
of shimmering galactic blast
I wonder why
That this precious night sky
was so sadly underrated
even noticed, but rarely appreciated
I wished you give a minute
to take your eyes a treat
and you'll see that same night sky
I look at when all I've got is to cry
That is my eternal canvas
where hopes and dreams and lies was
scattered in nowhere of fair distances;
couldn't even remember the pieces.
my metaphor of life,
an infinite projection of blithe
so tonight, by chance, again
I'll watch my night sky then
hoping you did too
because my methapor of night sky is you
c e l e s t i a l | t h e r a p y
AshJ Apr 2018
There are some nights
When i look up at the sky and fall in love
Over and over again.

Gazing at the night sky
unfurl into deeper hues of blue
indicating the end of
yet another day.

Stars as if diamond flung up
into an inky facade.
The moon, shinning in its glory
As if the divine halo of the Almighty himself.

A celestial space so immense
where my mind can wander limitless.
I embrace the silence of the night and
leap into its angelic gloom.

They say dark is evil, an unruly nemesis
But now as I lie under this murky sky
I realize
Dark has a bewildering beauty.
Umi Apr 2018
Silicate, emotionless sedimentary,
Darling, it is cold, doesn't care wheter it breaks or if it is swept away in a stream, cut into small pieces by the sharp rush of flowing water,
While it may hold no emotions, it can be the bringer of hope, bliss, happiness, sadness but also spite and envy, or a simple fulfilment,
Look at the wedding-rings, their stones on top to embellish beauty such as the insurance to be with the other through thick and thin,
Some diamonds are rough, but they are stronger than stones, if that is enough, harder and almost unbreakable, sorted in line moliculary,
When the kiss of death puts us to rest, a tombstone is the sad, cruel remembrence of a former life, sprouting blossoming and blooming, before returning to the soil it once had found its origin, its beginning,
I will try to be your wishing one, your shooting star, racing through the glory of the starlit nightsky to catch a moment of your passion,
Burning up within the atmosphere of your warm embrace, dearest.
Drawn by your gravitational impact on me, I will be your comet, returning to you each day without burning away as rapid as a meteor.
Darling, alike a blazing Sun you make me melt.

~ Umi
I am sorry for these love poems, I can't help it sometimes <3
Umi May 2018
I will be here through the night,
Until the moon sinks, seeking rest beneath a cool dark shade,
The life which grows from light, is slumbering tight under a wonderful cover, the flowers have closed, awaiting another day,
But I cannot rest, for time has become endless for me, I can't set.
Why is it now that no one will hear my call, reflected in moonlight,
Why is it now that I feel so alive, even though I'm already long dead ?
First days, then months and finally years, pass, fall one by one, only a dim memory remains, what's left is a given; knowledge, of course.
Longing for the meaning of life, the fate was already determined,
Chains which bind me to make me carry on with my mission,
In a distorted dark sound melts into silence, losing it's colour,
Darkness in life and death carried by a curse of greed made me fear the coming day, sunlight, it burns, it hurts, I'll nevr be blessed by it,
The taste of blood on my fangs, sorrowful but also filled with hope, make me remember what it must be like to be a human, to be normal,
Even this scattered instant of a moment possesses unshakable love,
Ablaze, drawn out here in this holy world undear the nightsky,
Unable to advance or return, is there sense to believe in the future?
To face the dark clouds is the golden rule, so I don't give up,
This endless battle always was so meaningless, I forgot how it started,
The meaning of life...even it it remains unknown for me, like you it must exist and is that not very beautiful in its very own way ?
Darling, if I should perish by the morninglight, sing me a lullaby!
A lullaby for a vampire

~ Umi
Umi Mar 2018
Go on with haste and fly through this undawning memory of love,
What is the moon looking up at, perhaps a dance of pulsar stars ?
What is the sun looking down at, perhaps the life growing from light?
An eternal sinner wanders under their light, with no aim, no goal,
All he carries shall be the pride in his heart, with undying love burning as bright as a hyper nova in the nearby young nightsky,
Lingering sadness seeps it's way through, to the surface of the moon, forever to be bound in an orbit, overshadowed, shining in lesser light,
Yet does it oversee, what beauty it brings to the night, or what it would be if darkness reigned supreme without it and the stars to rise?
Enlighting the darkest of nights for us, forgotten it keeps up his duty,
For maybe, even if just one is touched by his luminosity it would be enough to keep going, until the time comes to greet the break of dawn
The milkyway alike a river of stars, each with their own story to tell,
Stars stand with their secret hidden, an orbital parent to many planets
The sky is the eternity in a land of pure fantasy and hope after all,
A dream which knows no death till its termination draws near,
But isn't waking up the commencement of something far greater ?

~ Umi
Ceida Uilyc Jul 2015
I could tell you,
But you’d laugh at me.
Because it is bare, raw and pure.
You gloat on the preservatives.
You discard the genuine.
Listen to me, my friend, there is a part of the world, where even a bulb is never, ever, witnessed in real, but reel of the sanskrit Cartoon slots. The peppy  and ‘lone B-grade Cartoons .
Filled with Flesh.
The stories of tantric mantras, with a sliver of diminishing hearth,
on the
Dimensions and depth of the Yoni in the resin of shellac
on the Immaculate ceremony,
In a woodpecker hole just underneath the sealed power of the Yakshini who truly screws it up if you have taste of her once.
the one who harbingers drunk loners of Kavadiyattom alley after 3:20 am.
She takes them to the crown chakra of palm trees.
Shows them the world.
she pushes them off the crown and the falcon falls in endless spirals of a inhuman push that pushes the concrete innards to a danlgling mass of amoebic copulation.
Breath comes back.
It is a big nauseating gag of Kumbhakarnan's long sadya that lasted for half a decade.
Of the soma saras that made the entire India go, ga-ga and believe they've seen the god.
But not one nor any saw the same face, colour, shape or even vibe of the god they had seen alone.
They agreed in unison that all their hallucinations of beautiful humans in Flower UFO s and high-tech cloning, were a vital hair in the nostril of the cosmos.
They made, each a god out of their genuine mix of memories.
Or in the, priest's ways,
Hence, the 2.3 Billion populous of the country had the same, well, odd Spiritual benefactors.

Keeping it all aside, lemme be honest, I'd follow many a fairy god-mother but give my milkey teeny tooth to the special one.
Hinduism tells you God is omnipresent.
Hinduism tells you God is within you.
It also says, there is no God.
The clipper to snap off the confusion of this, lies in the same cheap stained-yellow cliche of love. It entails everything. You, me, animals, plants, cosmos, vibes, thoughts, dreams and the universe.
It tells you to live with your body mind and soul.
From Kamasutras that teaches sense.
The excitement, control and breakthrough of it.
Like tao did under his exposed roof without the sacred dung of from Hindu Land.
This is the secret of a rumoured Mohini,
Of her 1000 per hour ******* during the her/ his/ its 352 incarnations.
which was the reason for Big bang.  
Amidst the sultry scant of the voluptuous *******,
Their skin,
a vernacular reflection of a dusk on the Japanese gold beaches, And the mounts,
firm and glowing with the rusty shade of pharaoh’s Gold anklet.
The gooey glaze of yesterday’s glamour in the wink of a gay galore.
Paulo Ceolho’s Holy Communion with God,
Or like the Japanese Tengaman says,
Or rather screams,
That all it it takes is a little *******.
So, yes.
That precise art of attaining a consciousness, from where your mind was
Afloat
Wild
Free
Satiated
By yourself
You’ve just consumed the essence of you
Your Ojhas
And the tiny matter that teaches the universe
Of a Shunya.
That, momentary sense of lapse of your body mass,
Or the breakthrough into your eye of the crown.
Only to join the mundane bustle of the 10,00 speakers on all four
JBLs, Boses and Pioneers live looping the zillions of sanskrit mantras under one roof.
In your Ear drum.
A synechdoche of the Gods and their jacuzzi of amphetamine bubbles.
Splashed from a white Elephant's bejewelled Snout, which has the
crowned ring in your pineals.
Secret lies under
the rotten bone chip of Hussain Sagar
deep under the ***** green lake,  
drowning the rainbow Buddha in the city of slimy immortal maggots on ham.
Open your eyes.
For the Gods will
Else
Cut your eyelids off
to show you that
the city's shardminds await you.
roaring
Playing close to the fire demons of Redland
A nail close to your wide open lid-less
White flowing eye.
Hear the city scream.
The deafening chaos,
In unison,
Intoxicating their venomous fruits
of the delirious worlds
Or simply put, divine prayer and offering
for
the Omnipotent,
Omniscient
And the
Om.
Shunya.
Or the cyclic abyss of meaninglessness.
But,
Like, the wilted azures
that seduced those flies,
From a far far away,
To come the praise the combs of their bellies,
Filled with the red from the omnipotent, dead, weak and evil
In one little fly belly.
They came from the
land called Lullaby.
To go there
from here,
But, first,
bear the Weasleys' infamous extendable ears and heed me now, for I say twice and See him Come.
The snake, the tangy smell of goated black rub and blueness.
Siva shouldn't come?
Not yet. A little DMT more in the brain and perhaps the spark will happen.
Better than the potions of those gigantic forest priests.
No, Heed me, now.

3 Dodos Walk-afar,
And, take the lone left-laden log
the one that is,
limitless Long
loyal and  let alone
By those
languors which
Killed
Lord Leopard Loot'.
While,
Lord's Lass
Lays lolled lambs,
Lolled ‘long le ******,
Leech on the laiden log,
leading to Lord Lava,
Yes.
The bridge of Casilii Po.

Of the Lord.
Guarded
By these bubbling bellies with a drop of the world's make.
Assassins.
the Fly, flies.

retain the scarification of theolden curse,
Older than the rocks underneath this gurgling lava,
On which reincarnation steams.

As destiny should have it,
the astrologers had seen,
3 centuries back
That at a Sphinx’s Wedding,
a war of Vision,
will break.
It will
Bring the Stars
Out of those melting blue nightsky of Neruda's wails;
And the diabolic estrangement inflicting Eagle,
From Meena’s vibes,
that rubbed of a distinct scent of Malabar embedding a little of everybody in the village,
on its Kasavu lines posing
at the focus
of Sahib's Ferguson or Baker.

The gold turned white.
A liquid white, like that of the sap,
For that,
***** on a parrot green rubber plant
And work your fun with the white gluey milk,
fragrant than the sap
Like the  Ylang Ylang buds freshly kissed by the drooly dew,
sealed away
elegantly in a crystal Indigo bottle by the pen stand.

One that glitters if you look at its surface, but smells of naphthalene ***** in the sink
in
that
creepy trailer in
mid salem night of the tut.
Colourful.
This is colorblind.

White is motile.
White is wriggling.
White is life.
With a **** of Eve’s fabric-less
Skin.
White is divinity
feeding you excess of everything,
With an tenfold over dosage injected intravenous, by a silver-haired-glow-in-the-dark-dodo-cupid;

She is divine.
**** Her.
**** her on a Pyre.
**** her innards on a fire.
inflame the bubble
of her her oily effluent you found on the toilet seat
Instil in her, the seed of your sodomic occult,
Not by compassion, but through a hiss and sting
of the
flawless venom of the diabolic.  
Then. Disinfect your fruit that you flicked off the paradise.
And bellow to the blowing gurgling below.  
A reign of ****  nihilism,
moaning the mood-swings-of-a-98-year-old-menopausing-Bhairavi of the Indian Aghora Tales;
And Shelly, fueled in his undiminished hearth with the help of his impetous West Wind,
dreaming lucid,
on a flight in the sky for one week,
with Lucy’s sewing  sequined buttocks,
Stinging their luminescent, lactating, lustrous skin,
Like a tatto machine, lifting rays into the epidermis
So that it roasts, burns a soot and neonifies the only colour
A shade of
The rave, rainbow-red karmas of human existence,
Its little greedy quantas waltzing around the matter
And of its unleashed illuminations
That fuel the same vessel in the universe,
infamously known as,
the
black hole.
Uggh!!
All characters and plots are fictitious.
Your nightmares are yours, not Caesar's.
This is truly the fruit of my insomnia. I have been awake 52 hours now. Had to rant the wakefulness out.
It is unedited. All those offended, I didn't mean it, you did.
Umi May 2018
Beyond the boundaries of our restricted life,
Lies a world of pure fantasy, majestic and venurable in size,
You don't have to die in a dream, were the words pushed into me,
Because I was weak, such was a limited set of mind, bound to earth,
"Oh heavens, oh earth" I said, " take me in, let me enjoy the beauty and joy of what's beyond my fragile body once more, just for this moment, I would like to lose myself in the melody of life and death"
The boundary of day and night, determined by the worlds spin gifts us fascinating sunrises, and a starlit nightsky filled with great glory,
Seen and unseen, fantasy and reality all kept from interfering with one another by complex mechanisms and borders, orderly stuctured!
The boundary to another's heart however is crossed by emotions,
Emotions which are to be kind, pure and sweet, ah, phantoms!
Phantoms of the past conveyed by memories long gone corrupt judgement; when I knew the meaning of eternity you were no longer there, such the serenity of silence rules over this deserted border.
The border of conciousness.

~ Umi
I stand here;
outside my balcony
amidst darkness
in the company
of loneliness

My soul impertaburbly
trapped between forlornness
and peacefulness


Yin and Yang perhaps,

Forlorn because the soul,
wounded and damaged perniciously by loneliness..

And peace;
because the herb...
well the herb heals
to some extent

My vessel the arena

On a forbidden course
Yang battles Yin
the odds are in his favor
THC to Yin is like aconite to wolves;

And so he weakens with every hit

The melee ends
like it was destined to
tranquil and pure bliss prevail

At that moment;
the wind starts to sing her song

Calling, whistling to his lover
the king of the night
she whistles a beautiful song
that sounds of a gentle breeze
zephyr like pushing aside clouds that
guard his majesty;
grandiosely his image is revealed
in the nightlife

Observe they all gather under the nightsky;
selenophiles
far away from each other
all in different worlds
but it's this energy that coheres them here
together

The wind starts to sing
the song of halcyon,
ogling at the moon
in veneration and exhilaration
selenophiles danced away into the night.
Marshall Gass Jun 2014
Oh yes! I had plans to woo you
with roses and chocolates
and other mushy make-up
that might just rev up your fireworks
Yet I knew deep inside
it wouldn't work so well.

So jugular it was
condoms and plastic roses
knotted in shoelaces
painted and welded on a metal frame
worded: I will take you
to take me: Now!

But you laughed
and blew the condoms into balloons
and spray painted the roses in silver
and I used the shoelaces
to hang my head in creative shame!

Yet when we met on the deck of union
for the first time
the sparks lit up the nightsky
and we slept curled up around each other
like question marks

Thats how we bought tickets
to forever
Crazy?
I waited-you came!

Author Notes
Most enjoyable poem today.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Tyler Nicholas Oct 2013
I smoke every cigarette in the pack
long enough that the filters melted
and my lips blacken
like the nightsky,
when you stepped down
the granite staircase
in a burgundy bouclé dress
that radiated brighter than
the chandelier overhead.

All we ever had was enough.
Now I smoke to remember
the nights when the fog
followed us home
and the music of us
slow dancing in silence.

I pack my bags
and I leave my keys at your door.
You hold me close and you whisper:

*"What the hell are you waiting for?"
Lora Lee Jan 2018
There is a storm
gathering in
            my womb
soon to explode
into a thousand
crimson stars
lighting up
my veins with fire
and unraveling
deep-set,
          knotted scars
and the gentle rage
outside my window
presses on, inside my head
as I lie here,
my thoughts twisted
in a cozy, yet empty bed
my thoughts unfurl
in misty haze
           curl into
                      smoky
                 rouge
as nightsky thunder rolls
into creamed saxophone
                          deluge
the snare drum beats
in firelight
ripple sheets
in silky flutter
as my fingers strum
my womanly instruments
into loamy, primal butter
my voice in quiet utterance
as the heavens open
           to heavy rains
                    that liquefy
                           my desert
                 hydrate my
           bare-soul caves
so I electrify my echoes
into fruited, crystal drips
frothing up my
cherry wine
upon these moistened,
hungry lips
All these emotions move in waves
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6TP-M3dKcY
Umi Feb 2019
The allure moon,
Dashes through the tepid nightsky of Autumn,
Just to sink into the horizon, bidding us farewell,
What remains, is but a starlit, cold night.

~ Umi
Katinka Apr 2019
I lost myself in the nightsky
scaring me with it´s creatures
and found a stranger in the sunrise
blinding me with it´s shine

and the red sky left me stained
hiding my true colors
it was when the ocean turned purple
and the sky began to cry

soaking me with it´s odor
washing away my fragrance
that the reflection in the ocean
showed a stranger in me

So scared of the night I hid myself
becoming the spectator of my life
watching without interacting
silently in the back of my mind

I lost myself in the night
fearing it´s monsters
but the shine of the moon
brought me back

and as the sun rised
I finally saw
I was the monster
all along
thats okay Dec 2015
We laid on the trunk of his car
Shivering backs against dented metal
I always look at the stars
But tonight you did too
You pointed out constellations
And they were all wrong
It was so cold
But it was everything
Next to you
Laughing
Freezing
We were stargazing like we did in my summer dreams
And now when I see a nightsky
This is what i'll remember
Even if it's just another thing you forget to take with you.
Panama Rose Apr 2013
A star of blood you fell
from the point of the hypodermic
singing of fabulous beasts &
spitting out the *** of vowels
Your poems explode in the mouth
like torrents of ***** on a night
     full of zebras & bootheels
Your ghost still cruses the river-
fronts of midnight assignations
in a world of dead sailors carrying
         armfuls of flowers in search of
                       your unmarked grave
Your body no sanctuary for bees,
Death was your lover in a rain of
      broken obelisks & rotting orchids
In the tangled rose of a single heartbeat
I offer you the shadow of a double
profile,
     two heads held together at the bridge
         of the nose by a nail of *****
                                           smoke
     in the long night's dreaming
     & memory of water poured between
                                              glasses
In my mailbox I find a letter from
     a dead man & know that for every
                shadow given
                one is taken away
Yet subtraction is only a special form of
addition and implies a world of hidden
intentions below a horizon of lips
thin as your fingernail sprouting
mysteries in the earth …
The ace of spades dealt from the bottom
      of the deck severs the hand which
      retrieves it & the eyes of Beauty
      sewn together peer over a black lace fan
      in the ****** sunlight of a Spanish
           morning without horses
             The Belt of Orion is loosened
before you as you remove the silver
fingerstalls from your mummy hands &
kneel to plunder the nightsky in a shower of
                  bitter diamonds.
(Somewhere under a blanket someone weeps
               for a lover.)
Peace to your soul
& to your empty shoes
in the dark closets of
kings with no feet!!!
Sharmaine Jan 2019
So cold but it felt so warm
Clear nightsky is coverd with stars
Simple conversation becomes special
And its all because I am with you.
Belle Victoria Jun 2015
it was yesterday when the screaming started
there was blood on the floor, your mum was crying
I can't remember the last time I saw you smile, happy
you once told me this story about angels, about demons

this boy never felt like he belonged here, this was not his home
the world we live in is so beautiful, so wonderful but not for him
darkness always found it's way to strangle him when he was alone
thoughts about falling appart, breaking, terrible thoughts about dying

it was at night when these creatures came to haunt him
the innocent soul of this boy couldn't protect him, never
almost every day when the moon met the nightsky, the stars
it was time for the monsters to wake him up and torture him

the tears he had cried were expressed in different types of scars
no single soul in the world could understand the way he felt

it was yesterday when the screaming started
there was blood on the floor, your mum was crying
and maybe I wished you had took me with you, above

you once told me you wanted it this way, it needed to happen
you were so afraid, so scared of these monsters in the dark
your own soul was playing sick little games with you

so tomorrow will be a new day and I will be there
alive and breathing, for myself and for you darling
and every single day I will be thinking about him

this oh so lovely boy with his brown eyes and beautiful smile
the boy who got haunted by demons, haunted by himself

I always thought he looked like an angel
and now he is one..
you should start looking with your heart
you should stop looking with your eyes
Third Eye Candy Dec 2018
a regime of stars pollinate the impossible
as i linger underneath the yawning medallion of Nightsky
and tarry in the lanes of luminous, gawking at the Quiet.
South of Afternoon.
i plunge into my garrulous despair like an Olympian.
leaving ripples in the peace with shallow valleys
and iridescent peaks.
my swayback is the ***** of a grassy knoll of iron will
sleeping on the job
wide awake.
Chii Apr 2014
There are different kinds of love
An example is a fireworks love
At first, you're in awe
You're really really enchanted to watch it
To feel the excitement bubbling in

But eventually, the excitement you're feeling will subside
And of course, the fireworks itself will eventually stop and fade away

But in true love
It's not just fireworks
It's stars
Because they will always stay there in the nightsky even after 8 gazillion years

- MMM
Stephanie Feb 2019
The letters of your name
Matches with the ones engraved
in my beautiful nightsky    
The words you speak
Are like calming music that
gently soothes my wounded heart      
Out of thousands of promises I've heard
I will choose to listen to yours
and count on it                                  
Like how summer days are full of
vibrance and hope
But if time comes and darkness
filled my galaxy
Meet me in our rendezvous
and see me waiting for you  
"Can you please walk me home?"  
Perhaps, be my home.
Jesse Bourque Feb 2011
The nightsky, a backdrop
painted milky white,
softened by the drifting of snow

On our backs
the roof, cold and hard
beneath us
a blanket of white covers the world

Slipping free,
falling softly into the drifts below us
as I close my eyes
you brush my lips with a kiss

I snap awake
but you're gone.
(c) Jesse Bourque

"And when I woke, it was still present in my mind
  It was some dream
  Some dream"
- Tarkio
I am the nightsky, you are the stars that fill my soul.
I am here to stay, my old and new friends who are going to be.
Chrissy R Jul 2014
Do you remember when I laid in bed with you and cried
because telling you about me hurt to do?
            But I wanted to tell you - because you deserved to know, because maybe I thought you would share yourself too, because maybe I thought packing you into my old wounds
            would finally heal them right.
And all that truth made me shake and the dark bedroom made me wild-eyed but
               your heart beating through my palm pushed me forward a step,
        a step of a step, and pretty soon I was falling for you.

        And I remember when you stood over me, revealing your truth about me.
And all that truth made me cry and the morning light hurt my eyes
        and you split my ribs and my lungs poured out at my knees
which were bruising from begging.
        But I couldn’t find you in your darkened eyes or your bellowing voice
as it gutted me and braided my veins in a knot…
          Some things I try to forget.

I dream of you and I imagine your face, your touch, the way you walk and
          hold my hand and we smile and you laugh and
I have you.
But sometimes the black comes down from the nightsky
          and seeps into my sleep
to darken your eyes and harden your grasp,
           just like that you flay me open to spill my tears and
I’m losing you.


          When I wake you are there, reaching toward me in the dark.

The bruises on my knees will fade.
Let us take a drive
to a road where flowers
are smiling upon us.
To a road where
the smell of summertime
is flowing through our veins.
The breeze of the wind
that carries the wishes
of the dandelions.
To a road where
every word uttered
by our lips
are syrups of chocolate
and strawberry.
To a road where
the stars shine the brightest
when we look up the nightsky.
To a road where
smile is all you will see.
My friend,
it takes a mile
to smile.
It takes a while
to smile.
Always hold unto hope, and smile.
vircapio gale Sep 2015
slowly  carefully
as i might an ancient diary
still full of young dreams
and even  perhaps
the salt of young love

it hurts
to carry adolescent obstacles
given my age
and all those hateful skeptics
it hurts how they gleefully profane

yet settled dust is yet dust
i sit willing to love
amid my dust
i sit in ever deeper vasts of love
in existential sacrum wag
kindled crown and fullness breath of all the scents of varied forms of love

lighthouse toes inspire seas ancestors swam
lyric feet to message myth of travels won
my calves and shins  knees and thighs
  crawling climbing walking running jumping kicking at the start
physiologies of courage ****** ahead
as future unmade moulds invite
caress the bodied length intent provides

singing fingers scale my world in chords of gliding love
tips of arcing sensate dawns
diverse as nightsky suns

my palms divine an ever giving gift
no futures could unveil--
the toucher's touching touched
aligning novel insights  wordless as the womb of time:
perhaps a symbol flare could squint
and grant a vision of horizon's end--
another pleasure game
a bonsai love to soften age
another twisting meditation's emptiness in form
as motion stillness spaces words
to perfect pitches  tempos   sound
though all of which will never meet
and never meeting meet
as one
Rachel Masters Mar 2013
the blue of the pre-dawn
when the early bird
could knock me over
with a feather

A breeze whispers, soothing,
and the still hush
of a nightsky
hugs me

strange thoughts dance with
the fragile strands of my mind
disrupting it softly
like a pebble on water

Isolation comforts me
Peacefully, my one companion
While a city sleeps and
My footsteps echo lonely


A cool energy buzz
with heavy head and eager senses
and my heart flutters
Calmly through my every fiber

I impatiently anticipate
that orange glow
that pink fire that will seep
around me
embrace me
then will I stare into the eyes of a new dawn
and say
the world is mine today
Dallas Phoenix Apr 2015
May I have your hand?

Okay....

I would like to tell you
how you were made
And what these folds mean
Inside your hands
I know it sounds silly
but please listen to me

Haha okay so...

That crease right beneath your fingers
Means invincibility
The ability to ensure serenity
when encountered by enemies
the will to build
the power in your veins
strive during the worst
to prolong a better days
A creative freak
A pursuing perfectionist
Etiquette of measurements
Treasures endeavour unhesitant
And you care for it
Your strength will prevail
Take your time
And you will see
How your mind is unparrelled
Do you see it?
Can you see it smiling at you?

And that crease at the bottom
That cups your thumb
Represents your beauty
And your the rarest that they come
But you haven't realized it yet
And its frowning at you
Your potential to succeed
And the elegance you brew
Your smile is of wonders
Your eyes are a universal sunset
Gorgeously burning
But you haven't realized it yet
Do you see it?
Do you know how beautiful you are now?

And now....
Its your middle crease
That bounds your strength and elegance
With such unravelled symmetry
Now I want you to look at it
......
Stare into its shape
......
Now I will hold mines up
And if they all match
It means we are soulmates

Wow,
They look so much alike
So give me your hand
Let our fingers interlock
And our uniqueness will stand
.......
For the rest of our time
Look into your palm
One will frown and one will smile
And the middle will keep you calm
The middle is me
The reflection of your soul
And it will be there
Till our spirits are up with the nightsky glow
I want you to look at me
And repeat what I said
Because no matter where I am at
I will be in the folds in your hands
~~~
to my nightsky,
you are the moon
and the stars
simultaneously.

— The End —